


The People We Were

by highestkingbambi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, Families of Choice, M/M, Memory Loss, Missing Scene, Season Three Finale, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highestkingbambi/pseuds/highestkingbambi
Summary: The Questers spend their last few hours together before the memory wipe potion comes into effect.





	The People We Were

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a short monologue of Quentin losing his shit at Fogg. It turned very sad very quickly. 
> 
> As a heads up, I listened to a lot of Daughter while writing this, so for the full misery experience I recommend the songs Youth and Medicine.

Chains hang from the wall. Manacles remain empty, but the threat is clear. The questers reduced to prisoners in the Brakebills clean room despite their victory. Waiting for their fate to be sealed, while the potion forced down their throats took effect. Helpless, waiting for their lives to slip away as the sinister, bureaucratic Library stole the magic they had worked so hard to retrieve.

Huddling in a corner, Julia, Kady, and Penny try to work out a way--any way that Penny can travel out and get them help. Not that there is anyone that can help them. Not that there is any hope.

Margo and Eliot stand to the side, wrapped in each other’s arms, cursing the entirety of existence. Mostly they curse a person they naively believed had been on their side.

Quentin lies in the fetal position on the cold damp ground. He wants to be alone, but Josh is next to him making terrible jokes to try and ease the tension. It isn’t working, the tension can’t be eased. They did everything asked of them, risked their lives, their godhood, everything.

All to save magic.

Their reward is punishment.

Their reward is to disappear.

The door creaks open to reveal Dean Fogg. Eyes healed thanks to Julia, and now capable of magic again. All thanks to them.

“How could you?” Julia stumbles towards him, still weak from pouring her magic into the keys. “After everything, how could you do this to us?”

Penny is there beside her, holding her tight as if she will disintegrate without his support. For all they know, that could be true.

“This is for the best. Without regulation, magic is dangerous, it is deadly. Now there can be no more Martin Chatwin’s, no naive hedges summoning demons and tricksters,” he says in earnest. Somehow he truly believes it’s the right thing to do no matter the cost. But it's not. None of them will ever believe that.

“What is going to happen to Alice?” Quentin asks, his voice almost smothered by his knees against his face. Margo bursts with vitriol, quickly muzzled as Eliot pulls her into his chest.

“Alice Quinn remains with the Library, indefinitely. There is nothing I can do to intervene,” Fogg answers, his hands in his pockets. “You will all be placed in witness protection with your new identities. You will be safe from Irene McAllister."

“You think we’re scared of that mangy bitch?” Kady pushes past Penny to stand face to face with the Dean. “Even without magic, I’ll rip her fucking heart out.” Her fists are raised but she can’t reach him, an invisible barrier surrounds him, protects him from her wrath. “Coward.”

Julia lets out a quiet giggle, causing the last of her strength to go and drops to the floor. The group races over to her, helping her sit up.

“She’s not lying,” Julia manages to get out, leaning into Penny’s embrace.

“You might as well just kill us,” Eliot says, getting to his feet.

“It’s basically what you’re fucking doing,” adds Margo.

“Our memories, that’s who we are. Without them, without knowing who we are and what we’ve been through...if we’re not us, then we really are dead.” Quentin stands, back straight with the confidence he never imagined himself capable of. “This quest, these trials, we went through them for a reason. It was given to us for a reason. Every one of us has hurt, has sacrificed so that magic can be returned. Penny is dead. Eliot and I both died. We’ve traveled to the past, and from alternate timelines to fix magic. While you did nothing. You know what? Fuck you! Even before magic disappeared, you did nothing. You didn’t prepare us for the Beast, you didn’t help us until it was already too late,” he stares down the Dean. There’s nothing to fear from him, everything is already being taken away. “You think The Library should be in charge? They did nothing but trade in murder and slavery. What gives you the right to decide who gets access to magic? What gives you the right to decide that we should no longer exist?” He moves to Eliot and takes his hand. “El and I, we lived a whole other life, we raised a son together. Who the fuck are you to take that away from us? Julia became an actual Goddess, and she gave that up so that you, you sad little man, so you could have magic back. You’re pathetic. You think you’re helping us? Wiping our memories, ignoring our experiences, our loves and our friendship...that’s not protecting us. That’s destroying us.”

Quentin shakes, barely able to keep it together. Everything he is will soon be gone, and there is nothing to stop it. It is already too late.

“I’m the motherfucking High King of Fillory, you think one million sentient animals are just going to forget about me? Fillory is the source of magic you self-righteous prick.” Margo rages towards the dean, spittle flying from her teeth. The invisible barrier stops her in her tracks and she flips him the bird in frustration.

“Can’t you see that I am trying to save you? The library would have let Irene kill you all if I hadn’t intervened. I’ve seen all of you die too many times to let that happen.” Fogg is visibly shaken by their anger, stepping back towards the safety of the door as they curse at him.

“Boo fucking hoo,” Josh says, his first words since their jailer arrived. “You lived through 40 timelines. Which means you knew I was trapped in the Neitherlands, that my whole year group got fucked in Fillory and you did nothing. That was sixteen of your students. How many times did we die? Only three of us survived and now thanks to your friends in the Library, Victoria is dead too. You want to look out for us? I call bullshit. You did fuck all but drink or get high while we died for magic. You used us.”

No one has ever heard Josh lose it before. Even when he snapped at Alice, Kady, and Quentin in the pocket dimension, he hadn’t been this pissed off. This is different. This is what they are all feeling. Like pawns used in a game of chess, played by those too lazy to make any moves themselves but happy to claim the credit once it was all over. Tossed in the trash when the players become bored with the game.

“You may have already started to lose your memories,” Fogg says, raising his voice over the protestations of his former students. “The potion can take a full twenty-four hours for the full effects, and once you pass out you will wake up with your new identities. I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes.”

“What about our families?” Quentin asks quietly. It wasn’t a question that applied to many of them, but he had to know. Once willing to reside in the castle for eternity, he accepted he would never see his father again. But they were back on Earth, and his father potentially cancer free--the idea that he will never see him again leaves him in knots.

“They’ll be provided a cover story” Fogg replies as he exits the room, locking the door behind him.

Quentin lets go of Eliot’s arm and paces the room, flicking his fingers as he walks. It’s impossible to tell if it’s a nervous tick, or desperation to pick up magic. Stopping in his tracks, he grasps at an idea. “Jules, do you still remember how you avoided the wipe last time?”

It’s difficult for Julia to hold onto her memories. Already so weak from returning magic, she struggles to fight the fog in her mind, but it’s not gone. Not entirely. Fingers ghost along her right forearm and she lights up. She tears at her sleeve, pulling it up to reveal a long white scar.

“This is it,” she says, trying to recollect the details. “This is what I did.”

“Great, self-harm, not sure I can stomach that,” Josh says, turning green at the thought.

Quentin tries to let go of his own memories of wanting to hurt himself leave first. Those he can afford to live without. They remain, deeply ingrained like the scars on his thighs.

“That won’t work. The potion doesn’t wipe the last few years, it wipes everything,” Eliot says, his face gaunt with a more intimate knowledge of their predicament than the others. He’s spent more time with Fogg than anyone--at least in this timeline.

“You mean it’s hard reset on our brains, and they install new software, Matrix-style?” Josh asks, and Eliot looks confused. Somehow he’s never seen the movies.

“Quentin, don’t you and Margo have huge tattoos of your initials,” Kady asks.

“How did you know?”

“My Penny had one too,” Kady falters with the realization that she can never save him from the Underworld, not knowing who he is.

Eliot rubs his hand between Margo’s shoulder blades, where the ornate calligraphy resides. “You will wonder why you got that.”

“They could just give us names with the same initial,” Quentin protests.

“And give you an even worse name than Quentin?” Penny jokes.

“We don’t have time for you to be a smart ass Penny.”

“Then what, I’m a Traveler, so they’ll anchor me, how the fuck do I remind myself to tear my fucking skin off?” Penny points to a scar on his own arm, almost identical to the one the Penny from their timeline received. There is no doubt in anyone’s mind that it will be replaced with a brand new tattoo.

“I don’t know!” Quentin throws his hands in the air in desperation, he’s spent so long leading them, only to fail when they thought they succeeded. Everything he has left is fighting to keep from giving up.

“Josh still has werewolf herpes,” Margo offers.

“Don’t remind me.” Josh mumbles. He tries to remember what his alternate timeline counterpart warned him about, but in his pride, he never found out.

“No, no this is good,” Kady interrupts, filled with motivation, but even she can’t hide the tears in her eyes. “That makes you inherently magical, like Penny. You’ll be connected more so than the rest of us.”

“Bambi too,” Eliot adds.

“Shh,” Margo tries to cover, they only told the group that the Fairy Queen fixed her eye, not replaced it with a Fairy one. It isn’t that they don’t trust them. Margo doesn’t trust anyone. After Alice and Fogg, she has every justification to be wary. “Do you morons think they wouldn’t be listening?”

Everyone stares at Margo, and she knows they are thinking she fucked a magical creature. Which she really should have. Definitely would have, if she knew there would be a chance she’d never even know they existed. “Besides, I’m gonna be sent a shit tonne of bunnies.”

“Surely at least one of us has a chance at remembering. We all have to make a promise, if we remember, we seek out the others. It’s our best chance at getting it all back.” Quentin says. Somehow he doesn’t feel like he’s lost very much, but it’s difficult to tell when his brain is running on a loop of everything falling apart.

“Earring, Bambi,” Eliot snaps his fingers, an idea forming. It’s not a good one. It probably won’t work, but it’s something and he’s doesn’t have an enhancement or marking of any kind as an alternative. He grabs the earring from Margo’s outstretched hand, holding it desperately in his fist. Without warning, he unzips his trousers and drops them to his knees. Taking a seat on the filthy prison floor, Eliot drags the earring across the skin of his thigh, wincing in pain with every stroke.

“What the fuck, El?” Margo yells and drops to his side to claw the metal from his hand.

“I need to,” he sobs, fending her off, returning to his task.

“It could get infected!” Quentin tries in vain to prevent him from hurting himself.

Eliot ignores them, pushing them away every time they get near. Slowly the words form on his skin. 'Find Q and Margo'.

“No, that’s good,” Kady says, taking a stud from her own ear and copying him. “You all have something different about you, physically. This is our only option.”

“Stay awake Julia,” Penny says but it’s more of a weep. He’s lost her before and he can’t bear to watch her slip away. Cradled in his lap, Julia’s eyes are fluttering closed. In her weakened state, she can’t fight the potion; she can’t hold on to who she is.

“Q?” she calls for her best friend. He’s the only one she still knows.

“I’m here Jules,” Quentin rushes to her side. “I love you okay. I’ll get you back.”

Behind him, Kady is crying, showing a side to her that they had never seen. That only Julia had seen. Yet Julia is no more, eyes closed in Penny’s arms. No one notices Penny slump over her. They are too busy mourning Julia to see that he too has closed his eyes.

“Pen, Pen,” Kady says, shoving him to try and bring him back. He’s not her Penny, but it still kills her to know he’s gone too.

“We gotta stay awake, sleeping just makes it happen faster,” Margo informs them. She paces the room, stretching her arms--anything to keep the adrenaline flowing and her memories intact for as long as she can manage.

“Maybe it’s better that way, none of this slowly fading crap?” Kady wonders aloud. The people she was closest to have already disappeared. Their names are written in blood on the skin of her thigh. Without them, there is nothing left for her.

“We can’t just give up?!” Quentin protests, but the fight isn’t in him. No one is going to find them, no one can stop what is happening. No one will even know what they did.

They sit in silence for what feels like an eternity, but that just makes it worse. Eliot is the first to speak, telling them with great reluctance everything he can remember about his life before Brakebills. It’s a heartbreaking story that only Margo and Quentin has ever heard, and it gives the others the courage to do the same. Kady goes next, but she’s losing her memories faster than Eliot, and Quentin tries to posit a theory about the order of them forgetting. It’s not helpful, wasting the precious moments they have left as the people they were supposed to be.

A few hours pass and only Eliot, Margo and Quentin remain. Shells of their former selves, but they still know what they mean to each other. Crumpled in a pile against the wall, they try to keep talking, saying anything that comes to mind, no matter how inconsequential. The names of their stuffed animals as children, their deepest fear--that they are inherently unlovable despite the devotion they have to each other. Fragments of their lives slip away, faster and faster with every passing moment.

“I can’t remember his face,” Quentin cries. Somehow he still knows they had a son, but he can’t imagine his features. He’s lost the sound of his voice. He can’t recall what they named him.

“I know, but we will,” Eliot tries to reassure him, but his own voice is broken by harrowed sobs. “This isn’t how it ends.”

Margo slips away first. Sleeping peacefully, ready to wake up as a completely new person. Quentin and Eliot may have been able to work out that they last longer due to an additional fifty years of memories, but they don’t have them anymore. They barely knew each other. Fingers intertwined, they slump against the wall. Margo still draped across Eliot’s lap, even though he can’t recognize who she was and what she means to him. It won’t be much longer before they too are reset.

“I’ll find you,” Eliot says. Quentin is already asleep, and Eliot doesn’t know his name anymore. All he knows is he’ll do whatever it takes.


End file.
